Chapter 6

Chapter Six

“ W hat are you doing in here?” she cried, shrinking back from the Duke as if he were some kind of fearsome creature instead of a man simply holding a tray of food.

“I told you,” he snapped, his eyes blazing, “I came to bring you food. It has been far too long since you’ve eaten, and I won’t have it said that I starved my wife—or any other blasphemy people want to think up about me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about that door?” she asked, crossing her arms across her chest and not directly responding to his appeal to make her eat. The longer I can avoid that, the better.

“You didn’t give me any chance,” he said, moving farther into the room. “You’ve been locked in here for the past day. I couldn’t exactly tell you anything without barging in.”

“And yes, that’s exactly what you’ve done.”

“To make sure you eat!” He looked astounded, and even a little worried, as he crossed to the bed and set the tray down on it. “You have to eat.”

Rosalie bristled at once. “I don’t have to do what you say!”

“In this case, you do,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “You’ve missed far too many meals, and I’m not leaving until you have eaten at least a little bit.”

“It’s bad enough that you took away my choice of a husband,” she argued furiously as the injustice of her situation once again overwhelmed her. “Now you want to tell me when I have to eat? I won’t be bossed around by you, even if you are my husband!”

“I’m not bossing you around,” he replied, his voice laced with incredulity. “You haven’t eaten in a day! More, since you skipped breakfast the day of our wedding.”

“Well, that’s my choice. It’s on me.”

“And if you die, it will be on me!”

Rosalie opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. She thought the Duke was being a tad overdramatic, but she couldn’t deny that it had been a long time since she’d eaten, and her health was starting to concern her as well.

“Does any of this look good?” he asked more gently when she didn’t argue. “I can have the cook make something else if you don’t like any of this. I asked Clara your favorites, but…”

“No, this is fine,” she said quickly. “It’s not the quality of the food that’s the issue.”

“Then what is the issue?”

He was watching her closely, but his expression was not entirely sympathetic, and for a moment, Rosalie was tempted to tell him.

But how can I explain something I myself don’t fully understand? Besides, why should I trust him with my secrets when he is the one who has ruined my life? Even my sisters don’t know this about me.

“The issue is that I’ve lost everything,” she said instead. “My home, my autonomy, my sisters, and most importantly, my hope for the future. Now, I’m married to a man I hardly know in a house that feels strange and alien, and it’s all so overwhelming that I don’t have any appetite.”

Her stomach chose that exact moment to growl loudly.

There was a long silence. Rosalie flushed with embarrassment and braced herself to hear him begin to taunt her, but to her surprise, he didn’t smirk or point out that she was lying. Instead, he pulled out the chair from her vanity and sat down on it in front of the bed.

“Let’s make a deal,” he said slowly. “Since I am still a stranger to you—and you are a stranger to me—I will allow you to ask me questions, and I will answer each one honestly. I don’t much care to talk about myself as I value my privacy above all else, but I will do this for you so that you can feel more comfortable in my home and our marriage. But for each question you ask, you must take a bite of food.” He raised an eyebrow. “Does that sound like a fair trade?”

Rosalie hesitated. She had heard about the Duke’s famous reticence to discuss himself. Because he was so taciturn and refused to divulge anything, rumors circulated widely about him. Most of them were bad rumors, things she was sure had been exaggerated like how he’d had a series of mistresses in the demi-monde or how he’d bankrupted several lords and of course, the terrible crime he’d committed that had earned him his fearsome epithet. But few people knew much about the truth of the man, other than these rumors.

And this was her chance to find out. Her chance to get to know the man she’d married. Perhaps even her chance to find out if he really was the Best of Carramere.

And all she had to do was eat…

Her stomach growled again, and she made up her mind.

“All right,” she said, and she moved around to the opposite side of the bed and sat gingerly on it so that they were facing each other from across the bedspread.

The Duke folded his hands in his lap. “What do you want to know?”

Rosalie thought for a moment. Now that she had the opportunity to find out whatever she wanted to know, she wasn’t sure where to start.

“Well… I suppose I’m curious if you wanted to get married,” she began slowly.

The Duke looked surprised by the frankness of the question. “Well, I wanted to do the right thing by you,” he said at last, “so yes, I suppose I did. But I had never thought I would get married.”

“Why not?”

“No no,” he said, wagging a finger. “You have to take a bite first. That was our deal.”

She grimaced then reached for a mince pie. Raising it to her lips, she inhaled, and the smell was so rich and wonderful that she nearly closed her eyes in delight. Instead, she took a small bite then set the pie quickly down on the tray. It tasted so good that her whole mouth watered, and tears came to her eyes, but she looked down quickly so that the Duke wouldn’t see.

As slowly as she could, she chewed the pie then swallowed it down. Her stomach growled again, yearning for more food.

“Why did you think you’d never get married?” she prompted.

“Ahh.” He leaned back in his chair. “Because there was no need. I wasn’t supposed to be the Duke of Carramere. It was only after I became the heir and then inherited the title that the question of marriage and children became important.”

She tried not to grab the mince pie too hastily. It was small, and she decided that eating the rest of it in one bite, although not ladylike, wouldn’t be surpassing their agreement.

Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw the Duke smile as she ate the rest of the mince pie in one bite. It tasted incredible, and she felt her mood lift slightly.

“And now?” she asked, once she’d swallowed the rest of the mince pie. “Do you want heirs?”

“I don’t know.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Well, this is very interesting information, but I think you need to elaborate. After all, this affects me.”

“Eat some pheasant,” he said, forking some and passing it to her. She took a big bite. It was perfectly cooked, still tender and seasoned with salt and thyme.

“The ham is good as well,” he said, “with applesauce.”

“Wait—you need to answer another question.”

“To elaborate: I know many will consider it my duty to produce heirs, but I am not eager for them. And of course… there is the question of whether or not you want children.”

“Don’t most women?” she asked between mouthfuls of ham slathered in applesauce and cranberries.

“You are not most women, Rosalie Goldwin.”

It was the first time she had heard her new name, and she paused. He was looking at her with a particularly scrutinizing expression, and she suddenly felt exposed.

“Do you want children with me?” she asked more quietly.

This made his brow furrow. “What do you mean? I don’t understand the question.”

She bit her lip and tried again. “Do you… want our marriage… to be consummated? Do you want to try for heirs?”

For the first time since he’d entered the room, she thought she saw a flash of embarrassment cross his face, but he quickly returned his expression to neutral.

“I will honor your choice in the matter,” he said at last. “The marriage need not be consummated until you are ready—if ever that occurs.”

This was such a surprisingly considerate answer that Rosalie didn’t know what to say. She blinked, taken aback, and had to fight the urge to reach out and cover his hand with hers.

Thank you was what she wanted to say, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to say it.

Instead, she decided to switch to easier questions. “Who are you closest to in the world?”

“James.” She took a bite of brioche.

“And does he know everything about you?”

“More or less.” She took a bite of mackerel with fennel.

“Is there anything I know about you that he doesn’t?”

“No. Not yet.” She ate half of the plum cake in one bite.

“So, you’re saying I will learn more about you?”

“If you keep not eating, then I suppose so.” She had a slice of brown bread smeared with butter.

“Why are you called the Beast of Carramere?”

He frowned at her, but to her surprise, he answered, “Because people fear what they do not understand.”

“Oh come on, that’s not a real answer,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You have to tell me the real reason, or I won’t eat.”

The Duke’s expression darkened, and for a moment, she was sure he would put their little game to an end. But instead, he said, “I suppose I behaved beastly after the death of my brother.”

She sucked in her breath quickly. He hadn’t mentioned his brother yet—the brother who had mysteriously died two years previously—and she spoke next without thinking—her penchant for recklessness taking over as it so often did.

“Is it true that you killed him and your father?”

It was the wrong thing to say. The Duke stiffened at once, his expression becoming dark and foreboding.

Without saying a word, he stood up. Rosalie stared up at him, her mouth still full of food.

“I—I’m sorry,” she tried to say, but the Duke cut her off.

“You should not ask questions to which you do not want the answer.” His tone was harsh and cold, his body language rigid, but when she searched deeper into his eyes, she didn’t see guilt there; however, there was something haunted in them that told her he was hiding something, and it sent a chill down her spine.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “You are right.”

“Please, eat as much as you can,” he said, gesturing at the tray of food. “I will send Clara in to collect it later.”

He paused in the doorway that he’d entered through earlier. “This door connects to my chambers,” he said, “and it doesn’t lock. I have respected your privacy so far, but now, I hope that you will remember your duties as the Duchess of Caramere and join me out in the waking, living world. I do not want to have to come in here and drag you out of bed, but I will if I have to.”

The tone of his voice told her that he was quite serious, and she swallowed, her throat suddenly dry.

“Of course,” she replied, “I will not neglect my duties any longer.”

“Goodnight, Duchess,” he said, and with a nod, he disappeared through the door.

Rosalie sat back on the bed and let out a long, slow breath. The whole evening had been so strange, she didn’t know what to make of it. There was certainly something beastlike about the Duke: he could be cold, harsh, and demanding, and she would not soon forget his threat to drag her from her bed.

And there was that haunted look in his eyes… the look that told her he was forever haunted by the specter of something he had done.

At the same time, she couldn’t reconcile that with the man who had come in here to make sure she ate, who had taken care of her when she had been letting herself waste away, and who had promised not to consummate their marriage until she was ready.

“I should have asked him the question I really want to know,” she said out loud to the room. “Is the Duke of Carramere a good man or cold-blooded killer?”